


And This Time, Stay Dead!

by angelcakes19



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcakes19/pseuds/angelcakes19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Starscream steals the Apex Armour right from under the nasal ridges of Optimus and Dreadwing, Megatron finds and brings him back to the Decepticons, but why does the Seeker recognise the feeling of impotent anger in Knock Out that he often feels himself? What game is their leader playing with them? M/SS later SS/KO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Possessions

_Author's Note- Hello this is a TFP fic set post-Crossfire._  
 _Pairings- Megatron/Starscream, later Starscream/Knock Out. Past Knock Out/Breakdown. Unconsensual Megatron/Knock Out._  
 _Unbetaed._  
 _Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters._  
 _Warnings- Rated MA. Non-con/graphic rape, consensual slash, violence, Transformer swearing, angst, depression and death. Major Character Death in later chapters._  
 _Units of Time:-_  
 _Astrosecond- 1 second_  
 _Klik- 1 minute_  
 _Cycle- 1 hour_  
 _Orn- 1 day_  
 _Decacycle- 1 week_  
 _Meta-cycle- 1 month_  
 _Solar cycle- 1 year_  
 _Vorn- 1 million years_  
 _Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak._  
 _Bold- Comm speak._  
 _Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from Transformers: Prime and please expect massive spoilers for the series._  
 _I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review._

* * *

And This Time, Stay Dead!

  


Chapter One- Possessions

Starscream stumbled haphazardly out of the freezing water, glad to be protected from its chill, and dragged himself up the sandy beach he had come across until his pedes met a less irritating surface. Might may beat flight but both meant nothing if the wielder was exhausted and half-starved. Leaning against a tree which promptly fell under the combined weight of him and the Apex Armour, he crashed cursing to the ground.  
The grounded Seeker rolled over to give a brief longing look at the sky, aware he had been disloyal to the one entity he had sworn to himself he eternally belonged to, and silently apologised to it. Raising a servo, he pressed it against the icy blue metal directly above his spark and the armour folded in on itself until it rested innocuously on his chassis.  
For a moment he intended to stand but the former Decepticon found that he was actually quite comfortable curled up on the firm but somehow still soft grass beneath him.  
Elation that he had gotten not only a lovely new toy, but a good few hits on the Autobot leader and the usurper, who had stolen his rank and rightful place as, at the very least, a superior officer in the Decepticons, faded slightly in the face of hunger and ever-present anxiety. While things seemed to be improving slightly and he relished living alone, answering to no one but himself and doing as he wished, the uncomfortable lack of security his relatively new lifestyle offered unsettled him.  
What could he ever hope to accomplish if he carried on like this?  
Ruling the Decepticons was a dream even further from his grasp than it normally was. Arcee’s presence in the Autobots ensured that he would never be welcome there; even though he was sure there were some Cons he had known by designation that the motorbike herself had killed the little hypocrite. Neither faction, then, would welcome him. The neutrals feared him, as they should.  
What was left then, the humans? Vile creatures that had brought him strife even _before_ they mutilated him. The lone creature scoffed quietly, he would never allow himself to fall so far again as to seek the aid of those beneath him even in his diminished capacity.  
A small part of his processor sighed part-knowingly part-resignedly that he would one orn find himself crawling back to his former Master.  
Whether Megatron would accept him back was another matter and so was only an option if Starscream was sure beyond any doubt that he was ready to face deactivation should the situation come to that.  
A bird flew diagonally across his vision singing cheerfully if it could do such a thing and Starscream found himself tempted, in a flash of jealousy, to try and shoot it down but quickly subsided.  
Waste of ammo, if nothing else.  
Engines humming lightly, an amber light came up behind his optics requesting that he recharge. A quick scan of the terrain revealed him to be alone with the natural wildlife and, gradually, he slipped into a much welcomed rest.

* * *

Two cycles later a Warp Gate materialised several yards from the Seeker but Starscream remained undisturbed having fallen into a deeper shut down than he had intended.  
A large figure stepped out and strode purposefully towards the small Cybertronian sleeping peacefully on the floor, partly shielded from view by a large dusty-red rock, both seemingly out of place in their surroundings. Though oddly centralised the two harsh beings, one of stone the other metal, were enclosed by glass land, trees ranging from ancient to young saplings and the ocean a few steps away.  
Perhaps the rock had been washed up by a wave that had cleared the small beach having stolen it from its original location and that was why it clashed so harshly with its surroundings…  
Like the mech and the little trinket the once-flier held as Starscream rested had been taken from him.  
For a few kliks he hesitated, servo convulsing as the idea to withdraw his weapon from subspace flickered across his processor as he remembered all the trouble the slighter being had caused him and was sure to create in the future.  
But then, life would not be so entertaining without Starscream around. Knock Out was fun to play with but it just was not the same.  
And… the Seeker seemed to be regaining his usefulness, taking the Apex Armour right from under the nasal ridges of Optimus Prime and Dreadwing he begrudgingly admitted was no small feat. Starscream had had the gall to come aboard his ship and take his energon, though the performance he had given before killing those two Vehicons on discovery was quite entertaining to watch on the security monitor later.  
His berth was growing lonely without his favourite toy and it should not be hard to convince Starscream to return, willingly or not.  
His former second was quite clearly malnourished and was no doubt craving the sky. Energon and a T-Cog were not such a high price and Dreadwing was developing… _disquieting_ sympathies of late if what Soundwave informed him was anything to go by, so the offer of Starscream’s old rank was not out of the question either.  
As the vain medic had insinuated it was a fact that since reaching Earth, Starscream was the only one among them to successfully accomplish killing an enemy. Even Hardshell, supposedly the strongest of his Insecticons, failed him in that regard.  
Perhaps Starscream was not the failure Megatron previously thought him to be.  
Thinking of instances where his Seeker disappointed him brought to mind the punishments he had put Starscream through, the recharging flier appeared mangled before his optics for a moment before the image vanished a blink later. How strange it was that, while he had harmed his soldier in every way imaginable, he would not tolerate others doing the same.  
He even once struck Shockwave for beating Starscream over the loss of their first space bridge, reminding his scientist that the Seeker was not the cycloptic mech’s property nor test subject.  
Starscream was Megatron’s, and his alone.  
Picking the flier and Apex Armour up carefully, not wanting to disturb him and hear his grating, though strangely intriguing, tones worsened by pleading shrieking just yet, Megatron stepped back through the portal to return to the Nemesis.

* * *

A few decacycles prior to the mad dash for the quartet of relics, Knock Out swayed drunkenly into his empty med-bay.  
Another night cycle, another nameless drone.  
Overcharged, the satiated smile soon dropped from his faceplates to be replaced with melancholy as his optics took in the dark and lonely area he both used as sanctuary by day and avoided as much as he was able by night.  
He tried to show Megatron the proper care and concern he knew was expected of him, but the tyrant was even more foolhardy and stubborn than Starscream had ever been when he was injured.  
Using dark energon of all Primus-damned things without any consideration of the consequences.  
The larger mech was clearly insane regardless of how easily Soundwave slammed Ara- _her_ down when she hinted at it, the fact remained.  
The medic still could not believe how deliberate the action was of Megatron sending his betrothed bondmate, to her, to his death. It almost seemed planned by the tyrant it had been so foolish, sending a mech after a femme he had, Knock Out was loathe to admit it, a _history_ with. No, they had never been physically intimate as the former Wrecker was unfailingly loyal to his partner, but Breakdown was a curious mech, attracted to the different and unique.  
Knock Out and Arachnid fulfilled those qualities completely, and so piqued the large mech’s interest without him being able to help himself.  
The strawberry red mech remembered vividly when he first met that young Autobot on the battlefield, the thrill of fighting Breakdown had electrified his circuits and the nature of their dance soon altered, passion heightening with each passing astrosecond regardless of their comrades who watched on.  
The Autobots lost that fight, badly, and the Decepticons gained a new recruit.  
Closing his optics, Knock Out fancied he could almost hear Breakdown calling him, but the fantasy faded like violent ripples on water distorting the image it presented.  
Megatron had even succeeded in driving Starscream, a creature whose thirst for power knew no limits, away from the rank he’d held so jealously for so many vorns.  
His lover and the closest mech he had to a friend both gone in such a small space of time.  
Starscream may have ruined his finish and threatened him but, to the medic at least, he became more tolerable when not in charge. Of course the other side of the coin was that Megatron ruled over them now and, even before then, the Seeker at least bothered to learn the weaknesses of his officers so as not to throw them into situations that left them vulnerable so the missions they were given should have been nothing they could not have handled. Though the medic lamented the Seeker having such knowledge over him, at least he used it wisely, arguably fairly he supposed.  
He had pushed his commandant a bit far that orn, though he would never admit it.  
Arachnid had been a weakness of Breakdown’s that Starscream, had he still been here, would have known. Megatron did not use that sort of information to his advantage, if he bothered to learn of it at all, expecting his soldiers irrespective of personal ability or sheer common sense to complete the tasks he gave them. Which could be exactly why they failed as often as they did.  
It was one area of leadership that Starscream perhaps surpassed Megatron in.  
And now they had these completely revolting, so far useless, Insecticons aboard ship.  
It was all enough to make the ruby mech despair, throwing him into a dark spiral bordering on depression.  
 _Slag it!_  
Giggling, sobbing, he felt his way along the walls until he reached the entrance to his overly-large quarters and stumbled inside. For one thing there was an extra berth which, even when it’s owner had been around had seen little use; only being recharged in when his dear partner needed the space to recover from injury.  
 _Breakdown…_  
Throwing himself on his, _their_ berth, Knock Out gave a stuttering sigh that juddered through his vents. He knew he couldn’t go on like this; the others would come to see it as an unforgivable weakness that, particularly as he was a medic- a healer not, primarily, a fighter- he could not afford to show. They would tear his spark out, as he had seen happen to other mechs, shell-shocked warriors, when the strain of war had broken them.  
And their cruel laughter would ring out throughout the Nemesis.  
Shuddering, Knock Out began to shut down his systems, before his outer door sliding open disturbed him. It took a couple of kliks to override his internal order in his inebriated state and bring himself back to full waking. Blinking his optics rapidly to hurry the process along, the medic’s paintwork nearly jumped clean off his armour when Megatron strode in, a look in the tyrant’s blood-red orbs that terrified him beyond measure.  
He opened his mouth to ask if the former gladiator was injured or required assistance and raw panic spiralled through Knock Out’s systems when the massive mech grabbed him and flipped the cherry mech over on his front.  
For an instant he was reminded of Breakdown when the former Wrecker would get into one of his rare dominant moods, but the absence of the feeling of safety quickly destroyed the brief memory.  
Megatron quickly gagged him, wrapping his servo around Knock Out’s throat to hold him still, then harshly bound the CMO’s wrists behind his back.  
Using his larger frame to pin the medic to his bland berth, Megatron trapped the slighter frame as he would have done Starscream in Knock Out’s place.  
To administer the medic’s lesson, he need not physically harm him, that was not the intention, not here. Megatron wished to maintain his reputation as a good lover after all. Even Starscream, with all his criticisms, could not fault him there.  
Rubbing his pelvic plating against the lovely aft beneath him, the tyrant began to litter kisses down Knock Out’s quivering back. Nuzzling at the supple, sweet-smelling metal, he mused that, like his former second, the medic was not bad company when silent.  
Megatron reached down and tapped against the vain mech’s interfacing panel to request entry with the pad of digit, careful not to scratch the thin metal with his claw.  
The CMO turned pleading optics on him, red orbs wide, but the tyrant was used to hesitance in his partners, he was their leader after all and they rightly feared disappointing him. As such he could be patient and simply encouraged Knock Out by repeating the action with a bit more insistence and just the hint of a claw in warning.  
Hesitance, nervousness, were acceptable, disobedience was not.  
The panel snapped open as the vain mech winced and the Warlord’s engines purred in praise and approval. Crooning wordlessly to his subordinate, allowing his engines to speak for him for the moment, Megatron eased a digit inside to begin preparing the younger mech.  
Humming softly, soothingly as Knock Out whined, Megatron used his free servo to massage the smaller mech’s shoulder, easing out the kinks there and feeling the medic relax marginally.  
Slipping in a second claw, gently so as not to slice through the delicate internals they brushed against, Megatron leaned over to rest some of his weight on his soldier to place his mouth beside Knock Out’s audio.  
A third digit worked its way inside as the tyrant sighed, a burst of warm air briefly engulfing the slighter mech from the older mech’s vents, as he felt the medic tremble against him. Glancing down, Megatron smirked to see lubricant dripping down Knock Out’s legs.  
 _Good mech._  
As he worked a fourth in, he noticed that the medic had closed his optics tight and was mouthing something mutely.  
Rolling his engine in a sound reminiscent of a growl, the tyrant called his CMO out of whatever fantasy world he’d dropped into, and dim red orbs opened to glance up at him, a trickle of optic fluid running down a ruby red and cloud white faceplate.  
The growl morphed into a pleasant rumbling sound as he licked away the clear liquid in a reassuring motion.  
‘Calm yourself,’ he whispered into Knock Out’s audio, ‘there is no need for this to be a painful experience for you. But we do need to talk… Are you listening?’  
Megatron paused as Knock Out nodded weakly, positioning himself and sliding in smoothly, hilting himself in one long movement.  
As Knock Out mewled, the Warlord continued, his voice lower than normal as a glorious tightness wrapped around him. ‘There are others on this ship, closer to your rank, who would relish having you. As it is you are sullying the reputation of the officers with your recent behaviour and you will stop, do I make myself clear?’  
The medic’s helm bobbed quickly, optics still full of anxiety.  
Megatron didn’t thrust but sighed again, ‘and you are failing me far too consistently as of late, you need to try harder, or I will be forced to take more extreme measures.’ He ran a servo threateningly down Knock Out’s finish, hissing. ‘I’ll strip you down to your protoform and throw you to the drones to play with as you seem so fond of them… or perhaps the Insecticons will earn a turn with you.’  
The tyrant trailed off as the medic began to tremble violently, and then began to shush him, kissing and caressing the enticing metal beneath him. Comforting as he began to slide in and out, ‘enjoy yourself now…’  
Half a cycle later, the tyrant exited Knock Out’s quarters, satisfied that the CMO would seek to satisfy him now and would no longer degrade himself and the other officers by sharing himself with any drone that the medic crossed paths with.  
Still, now he had indulged himself in the medic, it left him aching- at least physically- for his former second.  
Perhaps, it was not unthinkable for him to retrieve Starscream without killing him after all.  
As the tyrant’s pedesteps retreated, Knock Out quivered on his berth, disgusted at the stained state his leader had left him in and the feeling of betrayal that had resulted from Breakdown’s death, burrowed its way painfully deeper into his spark.  
Hatred burned through him accompanied by a loathed sense of helplessness and a weakness he refused to tolerate.  
If that was what Megatron had done to Starscream, then it was no wonder the tyrant had moulded a traitor in the Air Commander.  
And now a second one in Knock Out himself.  
To think he’d been loyal to that mech when he’d first arrived here! How foolish he had been, how naïve!  
Cursing everyone, both mortal and deity, that he knew, Knock Out eventually fell despite his dirtied frame into an exhausted recharge which, in defiance of his earlier state, was most assuredly sober.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and please review._


	2. Old Game, New Players

_Author's Note- Hello this is a TFP fic set post-Crossfire._  
 _Special thanks to Guest, Kirite, DemonSurfer, sakiko of soleana, Iwanita, X-Eclipse, LadyBonBon, fan girl 666, Elli Screamer G�tze and P.A.W.07 for reviewing._ _Pairings- Megatron/Starscream, later Starscream/Knock Out. Past Knock Out/Breakdown._ _Unconsensual Megatron/Knock Out._  
 _Unbetaed._  
 _Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters._  
 _Warnings- Rated MA. Non-con/graphic rape, consensual slash, violence, Transformer swearing, angst, depression and death. Major Character Death in later chapters._  
 _Units of Time:-_  
 _Astrosecond- 1 second_  
 _Klik- 1 minute_  
 _Cycle- 1 hour_  
 _Orn- 1 day_  
 _Decacycle- 1 week_  
 _Meta-cycle- 1 month_  
 _Solar cycle- 1 year_  
 _Vorn- 1 million years_  
 _Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak._  
 _Bold- Comm speak._  
 _Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from Transformers: Prime and please expect massive spoilers for the series._  
 _I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review._

* * *

Chapter Two- Old Game, New Players

  
Starscream onlined slowly as a strangely familiar chill, though one not felt in many solar cycles, travelled up his frame. There was a pleasant warmth at his back staving off the worst of the cold, and his wings instinctively pressed into it, the thin metal more sensitive to sensation than the rest of his metallic body.  
His systems gave him positive news for once, running unusually smoothly, though that was not an unwelcome fact by any means.  
What was undesirable, however, was when his optics flickered open he was immediately greeted by the inside of his former Master's personal quarters. A strangled sound reminiscent of a squeak, though he would kill before admitting he could make such a noise, burst out painfully from his vocaliser, becoming higher in pitch when the being behind him growled in discontent and a low voice spoke directly into his audio.  
'Quiet! M'recharging, we can argue in a cycle or two.'  
Turning to face his former leader, unconsciously curling into the only offered warmth in Megatron's notoriously freezing quarters; Starscream couldn't hide the questioning in his optics.  
The tyrant lightly cuffed the Seeker's helm, 'recharge!'  
The Seeker dutifully shuttered his optics, the touch of a smirk at the Warlord's behaviour fading as he shut down once more.  
At least, he registered before slipping under; Megatron's frame bore no trace of even irritation, much less anger.

* * *

After Knock Out had woken the morning after Megatron's assault, frame and sheets in a vile state, he had scrubbed the paint clean off himself trying to get the feeling of the tyrant's claws off his once-perfect finish.  
 _Breakdown would have done it so much faster; he could always reach the difficult spots._  
Now sat in his medbay several decacycles and five encounters later, he waited to see if the tyrant would further chastise him in private over the loss of the relic, though the medic knew he may have gotten lucky. The deactivation of Hardshell seemed to have diverted the tyrant's attention from the vain mech's failure, but Dreadwing had not been quite so fortunate.  
The large Seeker was currently working a four decacycle shift down in the bowels of the ship with the drones.  
In that respect, it was nice to be one of Megatron's 'favourites'. He'd be harder on you than your inferiors but he would often let you live if you fragged up whereas other would be shot before even an explanation of their failure could be given.  
Starscream as a case in point had been forgiven immeasurably more than most because he fell under that title, being one of Megatron's most legendary favoured.  
A cold giggle shuddered through his frame at the fates of Hardshell and Dreadwing. A disgusting gunk-layered Insecticon and the mech who had come back when Breakdown had not.  
The chuckle broke off into a sigh at the thought of the current- how long Megatron's first lieutenants lasted recently was anyone's guess- Decepticon SIC. Apparently Dreadwing had tried to help Breakdown keep his helm that orn but Arachnid had known what buttons to push to enrage the former Wrecker beyond reasoning.  
Knock Out hadn't even been there…  
Pushing away that line of thought, he stood to inspect his tools, even though he had cleaned them not the cycle before.  
The tedium was thankfully broken moments later when the medbay doors slid open to reveal his leader carrying the vain mech's, apparently unconscious, former commandant.  
Ignoring the CMO's surprise, the tyrant laid Starscream out on a berth and gestured for the ruby red mech to examine the strangely quiet flier.  
'… Systems damaged by severe hunger… T-Cog _missing-'_ a flash of his assistant coming back from a mission with an optic missing made him flinch- '… sky-hunger effects therefore possible… exhaustion evident.' Starscream had still not woken.  
Megatron stopped him from saying anything more by placing a servo firmly on his back. 'Fix what you can then bring him to my quarters,' turning Knock Out to face him, the tyrant brushed their lip components together, 'and keep his presence here quiet.'  
'Yes My Liege,' the red mech's optics dimmed near-pink and Megatron smirked as he strode from the medbay.  
'I hope I am not repairing you only to have to do so again tomorrow Starscream,' he murmured, sliding a needle filled with sedative into the flier's- _former_ flier's arm.  
Though a T-Cog aboard the Nemesis was not impossible to get hold of, quite the contrary, all Knock Out would need is a reasonably intact body of a drone off the battlefield, or a living donor (willing or not) was always an option. If the Vehicons or miners had proper optics he'd have pilfered one for Breakdown when his partner was originally mutilated.  
Perhaps Starscream had run afoul of the same group…  
In any case if he ever got his servos on those scientists or Arachnid, he'd remind the other Decepticons doubting his competence just why he had earned his rank and reputation.  
A cruel grin graced his features before he settled into repairing the- mostly cosmetic- outer damage. The Seeker was in dire need of a repaint, wax and polish.  
As he finished his work cycles later, Starscream, now hooked to a drip, looked far healthier. It did not take long to replenish the energon in his slight frame and his self-repairs were required to bring online systems made dormant through lack of fuel and to fix the finer internal damage, and now the only major problem to remain that Knock Out would be required to remedy himself was Starscream's loss of ability to transform.  
Starscream back, if he was back to stay and the medic had a funny feeling Megatron had retrieved the Seeker with the intention of keeping him like an owner reclaiming a runaway pet, was going to ruffle a few feathers.  
Dreadwing's reaction would be something to store in his permanent memory banks he was sure, and _Soundwave…_ How would the perpetual TIC react? And what rank, if any, would Starscream be given?  
The show, when it happened, was going to be a good one and he must ensure he had a front-row seat from the beginning.  
Grinning, a flutter of genuine glee in his tanks, Knock Out summoned Starscream's old personal aide, a Vehicon he thought was named St3v3, or 'Steve' to the other drones he was friendly with, to help him take Starscream back to their leader's quarters.  
Swearing the mech to secrecy under pain of unnecessary surgery, bringing forth his saw to emphasise his point, they left Knock Out's domain.  
Furtively making their way along the corridors, the medic was glad it was well into the night cycle. There were very few about and the CMO was unsure about who knew and who didn't that their old Commander was back and, more importantly, who Megatron didn't want to know about Starscream's reappearance.  
Megatron always left him second-guessing himself, a trait he had never expected to develop, but had been produced through the tyrant's blend of positive and negative reinforcement, striking him one cycle, kissing and caressing him the next. The uncertainty left him on edge and gave him a deeper understanding of why Starscream was the way he was.  
Undoubtedly the flier was naturally arrogant, as Knock Out was, but the characteristic as well as the former ( _future?_ ) Decepticon's violent nature had been developed and worsened by how his leader treated him. The obsessive need to prove he did not belong to the tyrant had been created by Megatron's insistence, not only that he did, but that he also could not hope to be anything else.  
And so Starscream's dream of ruling the Decepticons, being his own Master, was planted.  
St3v3 stopped short a respectful two steps behind Knock Out with Starscream in his arms and watched as his superior rapped on the door then stood aside as Megatron appeared in the entrance to allow the Vehicon to hand his charge over.  
Megatron took Starscream from purple mech then looked the drone up and down and turned to Knock Out, 'remove his T-Cog. I'll bring Starscream down myself later for transplant.'  
The door shut in both of their faceplates.  
St3v3 looked nervously at Knock Out, wincing as the medic brought out his Energon prod, and threw his arms up in surrender. 'Wait, I'll come willingly! Please Sir!'  
The ruby mech stared at him for a moment then put his weapon away and gripped the Vehicon's arm. 'Be good and you'll survive surgery, fight me and I'll dismantle you for spare parts.'  
The drone nodded, walking fast to keep up with the suddenly striding officer, 'I'd have offered Sir, I don't mind Commander Star-'  
His arm was almost yanked clean off when Knock Out suddenly stopped, burning red optics tracing his frame as Megatron's had done. 'It's you isn't it? You're…' The medic suddenly laughed, his amusement ringing out down the halls of the ship, 'You're _one of those!'_  
Missing the reference, Steve was nonetheless relieved when Knock Out relinquished his arm.  
'Never mind, I'll make you useful in the medbay. You should be glad, being unable to transform will keep you out of the field, your chances of survival have significantly increased. Unless, of course, you aggravate me.'  
Knock Out seemed to Steve to be in a good humour now, and he began to relax slightly in the medic's company, though he was still anxious about the operation hurting. Then the implications hit him and pure joy ran through his energon lines.  
Starscream, _Starscream,_ was going to have a piece of St3v3 inside him, possibly forever. His T-Cog was going to enable his beloved Commander to _fly._  
As if catching onto Steve's mood, Knock Out grinned, but whether he was excited simply because he had picked up on Steve's enthusiasm or because the prospect of performing such invasive surgery had caused the sudden spike of eagerness in the medic's countenance, the Vehicon could not say.

* * *

Starscream woke up slowly a second time, early into the day cycle, to find Megatron looking down on him.  
A claw was pressed to the Seeker's lip components and Megatron held up one digit. 'This offer will only be granted once. Return and you will be made whole and restored to your position. Refuse me now and I'll execute you.'  
 _What kind of a choice is that?_ Starscream's optics flickered nervously but, despite the small victories he'd been beginning to have recently, the thought of having his old place back with all its perks and securities was too tantalising to pass up.  
Especially if death was the alternative.  
Nodding, he nuzzled at Megatron's metallic callused palm, engines purring in temporary contentment.  
The tyrant was gentle for a klik, then tightly gripped Starscream's chin, 'this is not permission to resume your treacherous ways, understand?'  
Again, the flier nodded but his optics hardened as he met Megatron's gaze. 'I have one condition, My Lord.'  
The tyrant raised an optic ridge but Starscream refused to back down, so he nodded for the Seeker to continue.  
'I will not be left behind again then treated as a traitor for doing what was needed to survive,' the Air Commander hissed before his expression turned thoughtful. 'I wonder… I wonder if Soundwave ever did tell you…' The smaller mech trailed off remembering that orn, swearing unconditional loyalty only to be tossed away and abandoned like scrap kliks later.  
'Tell me what?' The former gladiator's orbs flashed.  
 _Frag! Do I tell him and make Soundwave my enemy so quickly, or prove my innocence once and for all to Megatron and get on his good side? To tell or not to tell… Slag it!_  
Megatron watched indecision flash across Starscream's faceplates, and rolled over on top of the Seeker. _'Tell me **what?'**_ He leaned in to drop biting kisses to his reinstated second's lower jaw and neck.  
Starscream flinched, shying away from the Warlord's glinting fangs, and started playing back his own voice, his promise to be Megatron's 'humble servant'.  
When the recording stopped, the tyrant stared with an unreadable look down on Starscream. The Seeker squirmed under the scrutiny then moaned when his Lord kissed him hungrily.  
 **You little fool. Why didn't you come back? I could have ripped your spark out when I contacted Optimus only to find you had _left_ of your own accord.** Megatron pinned the slighter mech down with his superior weight, one large servo grabbing Starscream's wrists and pinning them above his helm. **What right had you to decide to walk away from me?**  
 **I wasn't _wanted!_** Starscream snapped, **you left me behind!**  
 ** _Arachnid_ left you,** Megatron denied fiercely, **and once freed you still should have returned to me.**  
 **How could I have? When you trusted someone who hated me so much more than me? I would have been killed… Sooner or later I _would_ have been…**  
The former gladiator broke their kiss, engines rumbling soothingly to calm the distressed whining of Starscream's. 'She was less subtle than you and her farce of loyalty did not last long. Normally you see such things and plan for them; you could have stayed and waited.'  
'You're the leader,' _and you **always** notice when it's my indiscretion,_ 'why didn't _you_ see it sooner?'  
Megatron noticed the trickle of resentment in Starscream's voice and stroked a wing almost tenderly to distract the Seeker from it. 'I did little one, I ordered her to be terminated.'  
Starscream ignored the name the Warlord had given him when he was a new recruit; it would open up things best left in the past if he looked into it too closely.  
Arachnid's vile voice purred suddenly in his processor. _Megatron was otherwise engaged… but you should see his lackey._  
Someone was injured then, or even lost. Starscream hadn't really thought about the spider's comment before, focussing on other things at the time, and Primus damn it but his tanks had _hurt._  
'Yes, she set one of her… _pets_ on me.'  
Megatron almost smirked at the familiar indignant shriek. 'But you are still in one piece.'  
'Ha!' Despite his earlier slip-up, even Starscream wasn't foolish enough to casually drop accepting the Autobot's help into conversation with Megatron. 'And how much harm did she manage to do before you realised she was not trustworthy?' A hint of a challenge crept into the Air Commander's voice and the tyrant tweaked a wing in warning.  
'I assigned Dreadwing and Breakdown the task of deactivating her, they failed disastrously.' Megatron bared his fangs in displeasure, 'Breakdown was terminated, Knock Out has been proving… _difficult_ ever since.'  
Starscream's optics narrowed at the tyrant's choice of words, 'and why, pray tell Master, did you not deal with her yourself? As you have any other in her place?' Knock Out was 'proving difficult' after his betrothed bondmate was killed in a tactical blunder, how utterly _surprising,_ how _unexpected._  
A sharper pinch to the tip of his wing made his frame arch, Megatron's engines revving in response as their metallic bodies connected.  
'Because I would have hoped that two of my best soldiers could have handled one renegade. But then… you evaded Dreadwing and Optimus…' Megatron growled and flipped them over so Starscream's slighter frame rested on his chassis, 'why do the ones with the most potential have so little loyalty, making them all but useless to me?'  
Starscream's metallic body juddered in a full-framed sigh as he listened to the tyrant's frustration. 'We could… try again Master?'  
'If you meant your words, yes we could,' the Warlord mused, voice low.  
Starscream gazed at the opposite bland wall. He _had_ meant them then, yes, when he was grateful to the older mech for saving him, but now… He wasn't sure. Megatron apparently had him repaired and replenished his energon, that was a start, he supposed.  
Deep down, he knew though, that it would not be enough.  
'And you will not abandon me?' The Seeker murmured, trying to keep his options open even as he acknowledged to himself yet again that he and Megatron were a combination that could never work.  
In the berth, perhaps, was the exception but he would never truly be Megatron's lover. That was a hope beaten out of him a few solar cycles into the war and it left him wanting more than the tyrant could ever offer.  
'No. Now why is it that the fastest flier on Cybertron is missing his T-Cog?' The question was half-amused and mocking, half-angered that someone had damaged what was his.  
Starscream mumbled something inaudible so Megatron tilted his chin up to meet his second's optics and repeated his question.  
'Fragging humans,' the Seeker snarled petulantly, 'little butchers.'  
' _Fleshlings_ did this to you?'  
The surprise in Megatron's tone had Starscream biting back a sarcastic retort. **_No,_** it was the **Autobots,** who do you think it was? 'I was half-starved My Lord,' he pointed out in annoyance, pouting slightly.  
'Hmph,' the tyrant ran his servos possessively up and down Starscream's side and wings.  
Then, with no explanation offered, Megatron picked the flier up and, ignoring Starscream's squawked protests, left his quarters and headed for the medbay.

* * *

Knock Out half-carried half-dragged St3v3 into his quarters and left him on his berth to hide him from Megatron's attentions, intending to allow the tyrant to believe the drone had been disposed of. He didn't know why he was going out of his way, risking his hide by concealing the mech in his _berth_ of all places, but he put it down to loneliness.  
Breakdown had been dependent on him in some ways as would Steve when the sedative wore off. It would be nice to have company and feel _admired_ and _needed_ again.  
The Vehicon had already begun to tentatively compliment him, with a little encouragement and flaunting of his skills, Knock Out was sure St3v3 would become a fine assistant. He wasn't Breakdown but he didn't need to be, he just needed to carry tools and do a bit of heavy-lifting.  
Not only that, but without a T-Cog a Vehicon was all but worthless, and so St3v3 would be reliant on Knock Out giving him work to be allowed to continue to function.  
Still, there was no need to make it apparent to Megatron that the ruby mech was showing mercy to a drone of all things…  
Returning to the medbay, Knock Out began to diligently clean the freshly-removed T-Cog of the energon and filth covering it when he heard a familiar complaining voice approaching.  
Turning to the wall to hide his amusement, the medic's engines thrummed softly as he thought that, at last, some normality was returning to the ship.  
Megatron entered, the Seeker slung over his shoulder grousing about his loss of dignity.  
After dumping the Seeker on the waiting medbay berth, the tyrant glared at his subordinate. 'You 'lost your dignity' because you behaved like a sparkling now be quiet!' Starscream subsided, glowering back at the tyrant until the back of his helm was cuffed soundly, 'behave.'  
The Air Commander grumbled but muttered, 'yes My Lord.'  
Megatron nodded to Knock Out to get on with his work, then left his soldiers, his favourite toys, alone.

* * *

Knock Out began to prepare a sedative then stopped, and took out a numbing agent instead. He wanted to talk to Starscream properly, while they had the chance to do so in private.  
The Seeker watched his doctor curiously, knowing that Breakdown was gone, he could see there was something _off_ in the medic's movements, in the way he held himself that he could not quite put his digit on.  
There was grief deep in the bright, piercing red orbs but not only that…  
Knock Out's entire metallic body was pulsing with something, an energy that Starscream was having trouble defining…  
As if the automobile hadn't been intriguing in his difference before.  
A needle slid with unusual gentleness, especially considering the rough way Knock Out had been using his tools not astroseconds before, into the Seeker's arm and Starscream felt his frame go dead.  
It was disconcerting to watch someone open him up, brought back phantom memories of an almost identical operation that he had not been conscious for.  
Knock Out began the procedure at first in silence then asked quietly if Starscream was returning to the Decepticons properly now, genuine seeming relief crossing his features when the winged mech nodded slowly that he was, reactions dulled by the drug running through his energon lines.  
'Good, though I see you still have not taken my suggestion to spark to look after yourself better. You were in a bit of a state when you arrived here Herr Commandant.'  
Starscream didn't reply, shifting his wings heavily in an approximation of a shrug.  
'Still it has been rather _tedious_ without you,' he leaned forward to whisper in the Seeker's audio, 'Megatron has been…'  
 _ **Difficult?**_ Yes he said the same about you. Starscream answered once his comm ping had been accepted. **You know I have a T-Cog back at my base.**  
'You have a-'  
The soon-to-be flier's servo brushed against Knock Out's mouth. **Even the walls have audios or, more precisely, every wall has Soundwave stood behind it.**  
Quirking an optic ridge, Knock Out nodded. **Where is it?**  
 **Now, you know I cannot tell you that, what if I need it again? Still it may be wise to retrieve the T-Cog to give to whoever this one belonged to, make a loyal mech out of him that we may need in the future…**  
 **Still plotting to takeover?**  
 **Now, when did I say that?** Starscream's lip components twitched, noting the strange hope in Knock Out's tone, **I only implied that it would be wise not to have unnecessary enemies in our ranks.**  
 **Well, just so you are aware, I am never against a potential promotion.** Knock Out hummed as he lifted the T-Cog and started positioning it in the reaccepted Decepticon's internals.  
The winged mech's optics gleamed as the idea of working under Megatron willingly slipped away. He could admit, under duress, wanting Megatron's approval when he was younger but he had learnt that that dream was more beyond his reach than ruling the Decepticons had ever been. **Have patience then.**  
 **I know,** Knock Out hesitated then added quietly, extending an olive branch, **we lack the advantage this time.**  
The Seeker searched his doctor's expression then seemed to nod decisively to himself. **Dreadwing appears to be a chink in Megatron's armour… I am replacing him as SIC so I imagine we won't have much support from him. Soundwave isn't a factor beyond being a barrier to our success.** Although elated to have an ally so quickly, Starscream's processor began to wonder why Knock Out was so willing to go against Megatron the moment the opportunity presented itself.  
Did he hold the tyrant responsible for his partner's loss? Or were there other factors he was missing?  
 **In my impatience to rule I forgot how to play my own game Knock Out,** for a few moments Starscream's voice took on a nostalgic tone before snapping back to normal, **patience and persistence must be used, and we must tread carefully. As the human saying goes, give someone enough rope and they will eventually hang themselves with it. Megatron's own foolish acts will be his undoing, he is an illogical mech that does things based on brawn not brains. Soundwave is the true threat to our safety. Be careful what you say and do around him, fragger never misses a thing…**  
The medic nodded slowly, recognising the implicit order to put up with Megatron, to indulge him completely until the time was right to make their move.  
 **Monitor Dreadwing as much as you can, find a weakness we can exploit.** Starscream finished remembering his first few acts of treachery; Megatron had been correct, he had been subtle back in the orn to the extent that he came close to being successful a dozen times or more and no one but the ones he needed had known anything until the crucial few orns leading to the climax.  
It was only bad luck that had caught him out time and again. Someone letting something slip that might have been taken as completely innocent out of context. A mech loyal to Megatron turning at the wrong moment and seeing something he shouldn't have…  
He sighed softly through his vents, and now to try it yet again, and hope to Primus for a little more luck and that his long-worn endurance held out.  
 **I do have a condition mein commandant, talons _off_ the finish.**  
Starscream swore that when he sniggered at that, Knock Out twisted a particularly sensitive wire quite _deliberately._ **Fine! Fine!**  
 **Good,** Knock Out crooned smugly. 'Now have you been feeling any effects from lack of flight?' The medic asked seriously out loud for the benefit of any unseen observer, 'dizziness, uneasiness beyond what you feel is normal…?'  
Starscream slowly shook his helm, 'a slight craving occasionally, nothing unbearable.' His wings flicked out in slight distress, 'but I would prefer it not to happen again.'  
Knock Out started his report in the datapad he'd left on the side, 'I will close you up when I'm sure your frame has supported the transplant. I would rather have you ready should something go wrong than be trying to pry you open and have unnecessary damage done. If nothing happens in the next two cycles, it would be very unlikely for you to suffer complications while trying to transform.'  
'So,' Starscream hated the dull quality to his voice, 'I'm stuck here like _this_ for two cycles?'  
'Yes Herr Commandant but don't worry, I shall be here to keep you company.'  
Starscream looked deep into Knock Out's swirling red orbs and something in his processor clicked. The energy surrounding the medic was anger in its purest form.  
Knock Out wasn't simply annoyed, he was _enraged._  
Hate flickered almost tangibly around him like a cloak that Starscream knew he donned occasionally, it was what more often than not recently got him caught trying to overthrow Megatron.  
In his relatively short absence, he appeared to have missed much.  
The playing field for their game was a lot different now than what it used to be but the goal was still the same.  
And, ultimately, isn't that what mattered?  
He could teach Knock Out the rules while learning the new ones that he was sure would crop up.  
And Megatron was sure to be playing a game of his own that he had to be careful not to fall too far into. To pretend to be a player while truly being merely a spectator would be even harder than it normally was considering the abnormally close quarters the Decepticons were currently sharing.  
Constantly struggling to get others to be your pawns while resisting becoming one yourself for another was exhausting, but familiar, ground.  
Let's see how he- and his new protégé- fared playing the old game in this new environment.  
A small grin appeared on his faceplates. Regardless of the outcome, the match would most certainly be entertaining if nothing else.

* * *

_Thanks for reading and please review._  
 _St3v3/Steve is fan created character and not mine. I would recommend reading JenKristo's fics featuring him if you have not done so already._  
 _Also if anyone fancies a chat about The Human Factor my PM's are on and if anyone has any icons of Knock Out in that episode that they wouldn't mind me using (I'll give credit) I'd be very grateful if you got in contact with me._


	3. The Beginning of Closure

Author's Note- Hello this is a TFP fic set post-Crossfire. Sorry for the wait.

Special thanks to Guest, Kirite, DemonSurfer, moonlightnight1, Crazybird101, The_writing_Mew, Autobot Firekat, sakiko of soleana, Iwanita, X-Eclipse, LadyBonBon, fan girl 666, Elli Screamer G tze and P.A.W.07 for reviewing and commenting. And to those who followed, favourite and gave kudos. 

Pairings- Megatron/Starscream, later Starscream/Knock Out. Past Knock Out/Breakdown. Unconsensual Megatron/Knock Out. 

Unbetaed. 

Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters. 

Warnings (uncensored version on archiveofourown)- Rated MA. Non-con/graphic rape, consensual slash, violence, Transformer swearing, angst, depression and death. Major Character Death in later chapters. 

Units of Time:- Astrosecond- 1 second Klik- 1 minute Cycle- 1 hour Orn- 1 day Decacycle- 1 week Meta-cycle- 1 month Solar cycle- 1 year Vorn- 1 million years 

Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak. 

Bold- Comm speak. 

Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from Transformers: Prime and please expect massive spoilers for the series. I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review. 

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_Chapter Three- The Beginning of Closure_

Steve onlined slowly, systems sluggish but otherwise fine, and stared curiously around the unfamiliar berthroom. Knock Out recharged on his side silently on the other berth, optic fluid streaking down his faceplates as he rested. The Vehicon's visor flickered then he quickly turned away to face the wall and reinitiated his own recharge protocols.

Cycles later, the CMO's ruby orbs flashed on and he sat up, stretching out his joints as he stood. He'd have to get Starscream's little hero-worshipper out soon, Primus forbid Megatron see a drone in his berth.

The Decepticon Lord had collected their reinstated officer not long before Knock Out dragged his weary limbs to berth, not bothering to wake his one-time berthroom companion he'd dropped onto the soft metal of the adjoining one.

Padding out into his wash racks, the vain mech luxuriated in the gloriously hot cleanser. Humming in pleasure as the heat massaged his frame, Knock Out's optics drifted closed.

He allowed himself to enjoy the relatively small indulgence, glad of the privacy this one place offered, even if it was haunted by memories. However, it was hard to find a place aboard the Nemesis that did not contain echoes of Breakdown if he listened hard enough. It was far better to be in areas where he could bring specific memories of his assistant to processor rather than trying to chase them in less familiar rooms and corridors.

Shaking his helm to dispel the thoughts, Knock Out reached out to shut off the cleanser. Leaving the drone behind, trusting the mech to make himself useful once he onlined, the medic headed out to the bridge for his shift.

What followed was a bit of a blur for the medic.

_Strange. Lord Megatron it appears that Breakdown's signal has popped back online. Albeit corrupted._ Cautious hope fluttered tauntingly through him; perhaps his partner was somehow alright after all. It wouldn't be the first time the larger mech had gotten a bit lost… He inwardly smiled at the memory of the former Wrecker falling into a pit of some sticky, organic substance or another. It had taken Breakdown several cycles to pull himself out- Knock Out looking for him all the while but unable to reach him even by comm link- the gloop latching onto to his leg in an attempt to hold him in and pull him deeper and, _of course,_ the brute on rising from the pit, looking like some monster from sparkling's fairy tales, had chased him around until he caught him, wrapping dripping, gooey arms around the medic's previously pristine frame.

His own shrieking, part-giggling, part-protesting, threatening and pleading, echoed through his helm as Megatron answered.

_Investigate with caution. It may well be an Autobot trick._

_I certainly hope not_ \- And how Knock Out ended up wishing it was; that his lover had simply been deactivated and was peacefully resting in the Well, for how could he be when his body had been defiled in such a manner?- _Breakdown may act the brute, but he's a maestro behind a rotary buffer._ Nevertheless, even as a small smile graced his features, he tried to take Megatron's word's to spark. It would not do to cause himself further, unnecessary pain if the tyrant's cautionary words turned out to be, indeed, true.

A blackened building. Smoldering metal; plumes of dark smoke flowing up into the equally foreboding rain-filled clouds… Everything was bland and gloomy, unlike the shine of his finish, and that, had he believed in any guiding deity set on warning its children of future sparkache, may have raised his sense of care. A brief look round at first yielded nothing more useful than utter wreckage, the area in such a state Knock Out could well belief the damage was caused by his partner. A strange, unexpected feeling of relief rose within him, which soared as a familiar sight emerged from billowing smoke.

_Breakdown where have you-?_ Breakdown? Shock with grief-originated rage nipping at its heels crashed through his systems. What had they…? Who…? How dare they? How fragging **dare they?** Relief died, replaced with renewed suffering, the kind he had been trying after Megatron's words to avoid. His lover's faceplates were… ruined, staring at him in easy rejection and arrogant dismissal, the optics no longer his lover's. The gaze looking on him in a somewhat sneering manner clearly did not recognise him; much less convey any warmth or affection. This was not Breakdown and, his spark finally began to acknowledge, never would be again. _Breakdown, what happened to you?_ He had to know even as briefly berated himself for his foolish hope, how his intended had come to be this way. That morning he had known almost beyond any doubt, regardless of how his CPU and spark tried to hide from and deny it, that Breakdown had not been coming back. Dreadwing had firmly, but gently for one of their faction, assured him of it. Honourable glitch had even apologised for Knock Out's loss.

Rage soon swarmed his systems, boiling and bubbling unbearably hot in his tanks. But, as any Decepticon knew, to lose control of one's temper was to lose control of the situation, and forfeit the respect of your subordinates. Megatron often appeared enraged, but he focussed his anger, used it as a weapon against adversaries with the efficiency he used a blade. Shock helped him retain his composure, prevented his instinctive reaction whatever that may have been, temporarily taking the full sting from his fury. His field was kept close, not even touching the drones beside him, as he stared at what had been Breakdown.

He couldn't help himself and scanned the tainted body, once and for all confirming the extinguishment of his Breakdown's spark, and what now lay within the unnaturally functioning frame. A fleshling! An organic, disgusting creature had no right to use Breakdown's vocaliser and alter, _defile_ his partner's normal voice so!

_Therein lies a tale which won't be nearly as interesting to Megatron as this._ As the creature thrust a suitcase in his faceplates, Knock Out's faceplates twisted into a glare, sadism many forgot was their sparkling in his orbs before it was temporarily blinked away before the fleshling inhabiting Breakdown's body registered it. _So, take me to your leader._

The drones present side-glanced at him, clustering closer to him in a protective gesture, unsure how to respond as they sensed the medic's upset, reading Knock Out with the ease only gained through serving so few officers after such a prolonged period of time. Knock Out abruptly turned, crooking his claw to tacitly command they all, including the _abomination,_ follow him as he contacted Soundwave to request a groundbridge and to warn the silent mech of what he was bringing on-board, disbelief swirling in his spark. Autobots were indeed fools for protecting this race of butchers with no qualms with defiling the deactivated, no respect for Knock Out's dead. And if they couldn't respect that, why should he care about their inevitable destruction? Fragging vile things!

Breakdown would be able to rest properly. Not even Megatron could stand in the way of him making sure of that.

Starscream's watchful presence never left him when he returned with his assistant's polluted corpse. The Seeker stood over him, wings flared out as his nasal ridges scrunched up at the sight of the spider web white marks all over the once-spotless, Knock Out would have allowed Breakdown to be no other way, and now stained blue metal. The unconfirmed ranked Decepticon glared openly at the… thing but stayed close by Knock Out's side, easily within grabbing distance, between the sports car and the seemingly disinterested Soundwave.

_This is the human that dissected Breakdown._ Dissected what was **his** and only ever **his.** _Please, my liege, allow me to return the favor…_ He was **mine,** you had no right! His saw came to life after he stabbed the air accusingly, imagining it was a blade in his servo that he was ramming into the little that remained of the fleshling's natural body. 'Cylas's' stay of execution had gone on entirely too long!

Of course Megatron denied his request in the face of a prospectively devastating weapon, but Knock Out could be patient, even calm under the gazes of his superiors. Such an attitude would not follow him into his sanctuary however; it would be left behind and collected once more at the doors.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

St3v3 was busying himself cleaning the medbay, as tacitly ordered and as he had been since waking, when Knock Out stormed in, a tornado-like force destroying the room, rage saturating the medic's field. Backing off into the shadows, he waited for the vain mech's anger to burn itself out, Starscream doing much the same at the room's entrance; the Seeker's wings hitched up as he watched his future second-in-command shatter before his carefully neutral gaze.

Eventually, Knock Out seemed to calm, slumping exhaustedly against an empty berth and venting hard as his optics fluttered shut. It was only then the other two mechs approached, one with significantly more confidence than the other.

Starscream reached Knock Out's side first, grasping the medic's shoulders to force the vain mech to look at him and shaking him firmly with a quiet, hissed reprimand, before turning to St3v3 and gesturing with his helm to the energon distributor in the corner of the medbay.

When the drone returned with the sustenance, Starscream was already taking his leave, a spindly servo reaching out to squeeze the medic's shoulder before striding out the doors.

Offering the cube silently, St3v3 waited for Knock Out to address him as he watched the medic simply take the drink and down it as if it was something much stronger. 'Sir…?' He murmured so as not to disturb the sudden silence in the medbay too much. Up until fairly recently, the CMO had accepted comfort, and unknowingly offered it in return, from them and they were not entirely sure why the visits and subtle invitations had ended. Slowly he slid the empty cube from the medic's servos, and placed it on the nearby counter.

Knock Out shook his helm, standing suddenly and heading for his wash racks, 'clean that up,' he gestured over his shoulder at the destruction his claws had caused not moments before, and the door slid shut with a similar chastising noise to that the Seeker had made before his departure.

The lone mech looked down at the broken tools and upended berths and set to work, his confusion as to what happened to Knock Out lasting only kliks before a fellow drone commed him with the news of what had become of Breakdown, the only officer who had ever truly given a frag about them.

An unfamiliar jolt of anger shot through his tanks, an emotion only normally felt when a friend fell to mindless Autobot fire, his servo inadvertently crushing one of Knock Out's best scalpels.

'Scrap!'

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Knock Out didn't acknowledge St3v3 as he crossed the medbay on his way back to Megatron's side, obeying the commed summons, his engines rumbling in anxious anticipation. The dark promise of a gift in the words increased his pace, Megatron's voice dripping through his processor like sweet honey. Starscream's earlier words running together with the Warlord's. _Didn't you see? He was as disgusted as we were, be patient and be there at the right time and you **will** get what you want. Let the fleshling bring about his own destruction._ A cruel smile. _Then give me a seat to watch._

On entering the bridge, Starscream gave him a knowing smirk as he took up his position; both keeping an optic on their increasingly agitated leader.

**You know…** Starscream commed after a moment of watching Megatron pace and rant, **when it is not directed at you of course, it is rather entertaining.** The attraction he had felt, a long time ago, came to the surface before disappearing again. If he and Megatron had anything now in the berth, it was more familiarity, and occasionally anger filled passion, than simple, honest liking; that had not lasted long, if it ever had at all.

Knock Out nodded discreetly. He agreed that when the tyrant's rage was directed at someone else, when it was someone else squirming, it was amusing. With unspoken, mutual agreement they indulged themselves in observing their leader.

_Cylas, how difficult is it to squash a human child? **Cylas?**_

Knock Out's servos twitched in growing anticipation at the increasing irritation and frustration in Megatron's voice. The Decepticons were going to lose and, this once, the thought made the medic gleeful, both safe in the knowledge that the loss was not going to be taken out on him, and excited that Cylas's execution would be granted to him; the Warlord had given him his word on summoning him.

Although the rising rage in Megatron's voice had both smaller mechs flinching, bending closer to their consoles so attention would not be called to them.

For a klik or two it looked like Soundwave may have rescued the mission, and of course the TIC would have been given full credit had they won, so Cylas would still have been doomed. That would have been sweet, but Knock Out felt little sorrow when, astroseconds later, the possibility faded; and pure glee when Megatron summoned the repugnant creature back, both he and Starscream recognising the murderous intent in the tyrant's tone with ease.

Knock Out and Starscream remained off to one side, partially in shadow, when Cylas returned, the medic having the impression that this would be almost a kind of prelude to what would occur when Dreadwing returned from his punishment. That confrontation would be another one to savour.

This one however was far more personal, and was not their fight as it would be Starscream's the next time round as the larger Seeker no doubt sought to oust him from the Decepticons entirely.

_Cylas, you have earned your place at the table._ Starscream's soft snigger went unheard by all but Knock Out as a hard glint grew in the medic's optic.

_Lord Megatron, I am honored._ The two aspiring traitors shared a glance, silently sharing their derogatory thoughts pertaining to the fleshling's intelligence.

_Knock Out's dissection table!_ Starscream's wings fluttered in amusement in the corner of Knock Out's vision as the sports car leaned forward to meet Cylas's frantic orbs, lightened by shock and sudden fear. The medic allowed his intent to shine clearly in his crimson gaze, urging the building anxiety to trip into full-fledged terror.

_Breakdown would be tickled._ His spark swirled in a maelstrom of emotion, but grief was temporarily superseded with cruel joy, the prospect of the thirst for vengeance and the need to see his lover's killer's energon spilled being sated until the time he caught up with Airachnid for her part in this. As Cylas protested, Knock Out silently advanced and knew the being who had taken possession of Breakdown's body had finally learned just what he had offered himself up for as Megatron's coldly logical and cruel nature came to the fore, the tyrant only ever tolerating those who could be useful and now that Cylas's usefulness had ended he discarded him, as he would anyone or anything else.

Pushing his prod almost teasingly lightly into Cylas's back, the medic's spark jumped in time to the electric shock, ruby optics meeting those of Megatron as they shared a knowing look, an indulgent smile fleetingly passing across the Warlord's faceplates.

_He will be a fascinating case for study._ A darkly amused field caressed Knock Out's as they, the four of them as Soundwave (even his normally calm field held a harsh edge) and Starscream took up places beside Megatron and Knock Out respectively, surrounded Cylas.

A rare moment of explicit Decepticon camaraderie.

_I will leave no fiber or **fiber optic** unexamined._ Knock Out grinned as he tapped his lover's former optic, half to return Megatron's expression of humour, and half to frighten whatever the frag the human equivalent of a spark out of the fleshling. Self-satisfaction began to flow through his energon lines as he gracefully stood and followed the drones and pleading creature out, Starscream mere paces behind him.

After everything, did the fleshling expect or even truly hope for mercy? Was it so naïve, so utterly foolish?

St3v3 met them as they entered the medbay, Starscream settling himself into a chair, wings relaxed, as the Vehicon's counterparts strapped Breakdown's thrashing form down.

But… it wasn't Breakdown was it?

Sadness welled up in him as he was commed by one of the others with the simple order **make sure you record it,** as his two friends left to resume their duties. None of the three were overly malicious but Breakdown, as much as an officer could be, had been one of them. Giving the equivalent of a nod through the comm link, he quickly strode forward when Knock Out gestured for his assistance.

Hours of screaming followed, and only Knock Out appeared to never get uncomfortable. He may have done, he supposed, had Cylas sounded like Breakdown, but any resemblance between their voices ended when the vocaliser shorted out, giving in with a whine of static. For a while there was almost silence, the fleshling's sounds of agony muffled by the ex-Wrecker's armour, but that was brought to a violent end when the medic tore off most of the outer metal comprising Breakdown's chest and the tiny creature was revealed to three merciless gazes.

Knock Out's optics sparkled with the kind of madness that inhabited the orbs of sadists doing what they loved to someone they inherently despised.

Relishing the human's fear, he held out a servo for a scalpel, and set to slowly cutting off strips of flesh for 'study'. Bending in close to his work, he began silent talking to his absent partner, apologizing for his failure to protect him as he swore so many times he would and for being unsuccessful in claiming the relic he had promised to obtain in Breakdown's memory. He also told his lover, hoping he could hear him somehow, that he would catch up to him one orn and by Primus the larger mech was going to get the dressing down of a lifetime for leaving him, then the fragging of his unlife for waiting for him.

Breakdown would wait for him, he always did. It was Knock Out who was normally the one to go speeding on ahead and leaving his partner behind…

Even in battle, sometimes…

But Breakdown had left him this time, going far further than just a few roads away…

His anger at himself for all the times he had abandoned his intended bonded, fearing for his own finish, and at Breakdown for leaving him, bled out through his servos and blades into the fleshling's writing, broken body, until he felt numb.

The human's death throes lasted some time and, when the little organic was finally still, Knock Out through the emotionless state he had gone into, began to feel the first unfurling of acceptance, something like peace, deep within his spark.

His tools fell to a stained and liquid spattered tray with a clatter, and he leaned back with closed optics, venting softly. He felt the ghost of a kiss against his optics and his shutters opened to see Starscream turning from him and leaving the vain mech's domain.

Lip components tingling with the feeling of unfamiliar counterparts, Knock Out sighed and headed for his wash racks, this time acknowledging Steve as he left, the drone's helm dipping in respect and an expression of grief. The CMO even accepted and returned the tentative, comforting stroke of his new assistant's field.

It seemed to be an orn for indulgence after all.

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It was the third time that orn Knock Out found himself cleaning his frame, as he removed energon, fleshling fluid and other sticky, vile substances from his paintwork. He didn't bemoan them though, this once, processor running with as close a thing to peace as it had been in meta-cycles. The quiet wouldn't last though, more a numbness than genuine closure. His assistant could rest easy now and that left Knock Out to let him go in his own time.

Humming softly, he turned off the cleanser and headed for his berth, the wash racks dropping into darkness behind him.

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_Thanks for reading and please review._


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